Shepard paced back and forth in the middle of the mess on the Normandy's third deck. In front of her was the door leading into the medical bay where Dr. Chakwas had requested she be left alone with Archangel to tend to his wounds. The middle-aged woman had given no indication whatsoever about the seriousness of his situation, leaving Shepard to stress about it.
Once Garrus Vakarian was brought on the ship, Miranda had walked off to her office – probably to give a report to the Illusive Man, Shepard imagined – while Zaeed stayed around for a bit until Chakwas kicked them out. After that, he'd taken the elevator to rejoin Anto whom Shepard had forced to stay in the Normandy's shuttle bay under guard as soon as they boarded.
Having to work with the Batarian was still something that didn't sit well with her and she had half a mind to throw him out the airlock as soon as they left Omega but she decided the mission was more important than her. The Illusive Man made it clear fighting the Collectors would be a difficult task. She couldn't afford to pass up any additional firepower to her crew, even if said firepower belonged to a species that haunted her dreams.
"Commander." A voice shook her out of her thoughts.
"Doctor," Shepard swallowed the lump in her throat and moved into the woman's personal space. "What's the verdict? Will he make it through?" she pressed.
The surgeon ran a tired hand through her hair. "To be honest, I don't know. It's the first turian subject I've had. I don't need to tell you how it complicates things." she said. "I've patched up his wounds and even put some cybernetic chips in him. I've got to thank Cerberus for them, they're going to be a great help if he pulls through."
Shepard sensed she was holding back. "Doc, just tell me."
Chakwas sighed. "He's still unconscious. I'm afraid he's lost a lot of blood. Blood that I don't have in my reserves. Without it, I don't think he can make it. I'm sorry, Commander."
The younger woman shook her head and resumed her pacing. "How long does he have?"
"Again, I don't know. I've only ever worked on humans..." The doctor raised her hands, helpless. "I don't think he has much time. A day or two, probably."
Shepard froze and stared off into space for a moment before blinking up at Chakwas. "Then I'm going back out." She decided, already heading for the elevator.
"Commander-"
"If anyone on Omega has any spare turian blood, it's got to be Mordin Solus and his clinic." she explained. "Take care of Garrus, Chakwas. I'll be back with our salarian expert before you know it."
"I..." Chakwas watched her board the cage. "Be careful, commander."
Shepard strolled out on deck five, the shuttle bay. Her immediate instinct was to move to the weaponry and retrieve her gear. There, she bumped shoulders with a shorter woman who was walking towards the elevator.
"Commander," she said, a bit alarmed.
Shepard barely gave her a passing glance and occupied herself by retrieving her weapons from their storing cases. Whilst checking her equipment, she noticed she wasn't alone.
"What is it, Traynor?" she asked with a sigh.
The Cerberus engineer seemed to hesitate. "It's… are you going back out?"
She slung her assault rifle attached to the back of her armor and nodded. "Yes. I am."
Traynor's eyes widened, she raised her hands as if to grab Shepard before correcting herself. "I don't think you're ready to be leaving the ship again. Hm, with all due respect, ma'am, of course." she added in a feat of self-conscience.
But there was nothing to do about the commander when she had made her mind. "With all due respect, specialist, you should be at your post by the CIC and monitor the Normandy's communications." Shepard retorted with a scowl.
Traynor's mouth opened as if in shock and took an instinctive step back. "I'm sorry, commander, I didn't mean to-"
"I'm the one giving orders around here, specialist. You'd better remember that."
"Yes, yes I do." Traynor nodded emphatically. "I really do, ma'am. It's just my… worry for your well-being commander." She seemed to be looking for words before giving up ad sighing after a moment. "You have just come back from a six-hour long combat situation. You must be exhausted."
"I can handle it."
"But your… hm… condition-" Traynor argued.
"I can handle it." Shepard ground out every word and gritted her teeth. "Are you done wasting my time, yet? I'm on a deadline here."
Traynor cleared her throat and looked down. "Of course, ma'am. I… I won't bother you again."
These last words left Shepard feeling a pang of guilt in her chest as she watched the woman leave for the elevator at a quick pace. Samantha Traynor had never received any military training. According to the file on her that Shepard had read in her cabin, Traynor had been fresh out of college when Cerberus recruited her. A gifted engineer with a profound understanding of human psychology but also, and above all in Shepard's eyes, a civilian.
The kind of person the commander hadn't dealt with in any elaborate manner in over thirteen years.
Shepard's life was turned around in 2176 and, as Mindoir's ruins were still smoking, she vowed to dedicate herself to the Alliance's army. Seven years later her promise was broken and she spent almost as long locked away from the civilized world with nothing but time on her hands to wash over the blood and regret over them.
Shepard shook herself out of her memories when a barking laugh echoed over the deck. She rubbed her eyes and let out a deep breath. Coming out of the secluded weaponry, she came across the improvised settlement made for Anto Korragan.
A bench on which the batarian mercenary was seated and two fresh-faced Cerberus uniforms standing on either side and looking like they'd never held a weapon before in their lives. They stiffened their stance when Shepard approached them.
The commander shook her head. Two rookies oozing nervousness. What the hell am I doing with that kind of crew?
"You two, get back to your duties." she ordered in a tone that had them fumbling with their weapons.
"Uh.. yes, sir. I mean ma'am!"
She didn't pick up on his mistake and as the two would-be guards all but escaped the scene, Shepard's attention was set on Anto and his unsurprising companion sharing his bench.
"Zaeed."
"Came to check up on Anto, Shepard?" His gravely voice held an unmistakable sardonic intent.
She bit her tongue before replying. "You two are still in your armors. That's good." she said. "Pick up your weapons, we're going out in five."
Anto scratched the top of his head, his quartet of eyes focused on her in confusion. He didn't have time to say anything as Zaeed beat him to it.
"Hold on, where are we going?" he asked, already getting to his feet.
"Vakarian needs blood. He's not going to make it if we don't act now so we're going."
"Where?"
"To find Mordin Solus." she glanced between the two of them. "Haven't you heard what I said? Go get your fucking weapons, I won't repeat myself!"
Zaeed frowned. "What about Miranda?"
Shepard looked at him in disdain. "She's not here, is she?"
Leaving them to their preparations, she paced, one foot in front of the other in deliberate fashion towards the bay's gate. Once she reached her destination, she glanced back only to find Zaeed stuck at his spot, staring after her, a disapproving frown marring his features.
"Four minutes!" she barked.
Shepard's golden armor shone under the gleaming lights of Omega's ever-present twilight. The bright, catching colors she wore attracted the attention of the locals and many eyes followed the trio she was leading through the narrow, twisted streets of the market district.
Shoulders bumping against another's, swear words being exchanged along with dirty looks and the general hubbub of the amassed crowd they had to sift through; all of those parameters put the commander on the edge. Judging by the amount of people and the scents of various spices originating from all over the galaxy, Omega's markets were a lively place.
Precisely the kind of place Shepard wasn't used to. It was difficult for her to shake off her general sense of suspicion among so many people when she'd experienced five years of quasi-solitary confinement.
During the rare times she was allowed to leave her cell and escape the constant artificial intelligence monitoring her every move, it often was to take a stroll in the large courtyard of Akoba's Detainment Center. There, the high-walls seemed to reach the skies and behind them were hidden the endless steppe of southern Russia.
She would have given anything for a glimpse of the landscape. To have her sight fill with hues of green and amber, to feel the wind on her face and the scent of wild herbs. To close her eyes and imagine, just a moment, the fraction of a second, that she was on Mindoir. To remind herself of those long afternoons of running through the farming fields with her best friend like she used to do on the week-ends.
Two teenagers zooming over the immense grasslands of the Birkeland valley in hope of capturing one of those eluding butterfly-like animals native to Mindoir. The memories of days long done when her parents were still alive and when she could still experience that fluttering feeling in her chest in times of happiness.
But it was not to be. Akoba's walls locked its inmates in a dreary, dark patio where nature didn't exist. It was replaced by the dull colors of gray cement, often contrasted by the bright red of the inmates' uniform.
Those same uniforms that always seemed to pile themselves in front of her every time she walked into the area. Her reputation had been well-established in the prison. Shepard the maniac. Shepard-Canon-fodder.
The Butcher.
A cry burst from her throat when Shepard felt herself being pushed back with force. Twisting to the side, she brushed against the large frame of an Elcor passing by. A huff escaped her when she noticed both Zaeed and Anto watching her in silence.
Right, she thought. Omega.
Shaking off her reflections, she pushed through the last layers of the crowd none too gently. The further she got away from the markets, the more she could relax. After a certain distance the noises from the crowd stopped being white noise and already her ears picked up tidbits of clear conversations.
"Repent! The end is nigh!"
It was a batarian mounted on a small stage. He seemed to have amassed quite a public, a large part of it was composed of batarians as well but there seemed to be a decent amount of turians, asari, vorcha and even a few humans.
The latter were quite often taken as a target by the performer.
"You sir," he pointed at a human male on the first row. "You are a blight on galactic purity!" He then turned toward a krogan. "And you! And you! And you!"
Eventually everyone bare batarians were incriminated. "Your existence is a stain on our dominance! Repent or face the arrival of the tartari demon!"
Shepard paused to admire the show when the aliens in the crowd booed him. "A prophet. Why am I not surprised?"
Zaeed grunted by her side. "That common with your people?"
Anto grimaced when the opposition soon turned into a fight. The couple of krogan went head first into a group of batarians, pushing them into the stage and making the prophet fall into the process. In a matter of seconds everyone else pitted themselves against each other.
"My people can't talk about religion on Kar'Shan. The Hegemony crushes any kind of dissent." he explained. "The ones who escape do it here instead."
"That guy seem… seemed to be somewhat popular." Zaeed frowned. "What about you? You religious, old boy?"
"I'm not deluded."
Shepard snorted. "Is that even possible with batarians?"
"Ah let it go, Shepard."
She pinned Zaeed with a cold glare. "I'm sure he can defend himself."
Anto was nonplussed, preferring to stare at her with the usual sense of distance he carried with him at all times. "What's the point? You wouldn't agree with anything I have to say."
"I wonder why." she muttered under her breath and passed by him to resume her walk.
Behind her Zaeed and Anto shared a couple of words she couldn't hear and fell into their silent routine following her around the turn of an intersection when the form of a turian carrying an assault rifle was depicted before the shining background of the holographic screen projected onto a set of closed doors.
Quarantine Zone.
The banner glided on the doors in eye-catching fashion to ensure nobody would decide to trespass into forbidden territory if the armed guard wasn't a good enough deterrent. Doubtful considering the turian had them in the crosshairs of his rifle the second they made the corner. He froze for a moment until a glint of recognized flashed in his eyes.
"You must be Commander Shepard." He lowered his weapon and spoke with the same flanged effect as Garrus.
"That's right."
"What makes you think so?" Zaeed asked.
The guard looked down to the omni-tool enveloping his forearm. "You're easy to spot." He didn't give them another word on the matter and typed on his machine for a moment until the doors behind him unlocked in a hiss.
"You're good to go. Get inside now before anyone sees you. I don't want to deal with some assholes who think they can get in if you can." he said in annoyance.
"Thank you." Anto was the last one to cross the portal.
"You're gonna head straight for a checkpoint next. Talk to Captain Gavorn if you wanna get any news from the front." The turian called out before the doors locked again.
Shepard and Zaeed shared a glance. "The front?"
"The plague got the Blue Suns in a frenzy." Anto explained. "They must have made hard decisions if it has turned the district into a war zone."
"That's reassuring." Zaeed exclaimed with irony.
The commander put on her helmet and motioned for her companions to do the same. The gasp of the hermetic seal assured her no contaminated air would get into her suit. The thin reservoirs embedded into the back of their armors allowed them to carry liquid oxygen for a total weight of five kilograms. As such, they could enjoy around ten to twelve hours of sealed-time under strenuous activity and about twice as long if they relaxed.
The liquid form of oxygen was stored at a subzero temperature of one hundred and eighty three degree celsius. Cold enough to inflict life-threatening burns to most galactic species if it ever came into direct contact with their skin. To prevent any incident, the reservoirs were safely tucked underneath multiple interwoven layers of ceramic and kevlar materials.
Reports of suit-rupture related to the life-support system were virtually non-existent. Even under point-blank fire this reinforced part of the exo-suit was almost unbreakable. Such strength could not be expanded to the entire body unless the soldier was willing to carry over fifty times their own weight.
As it was, the combat hardsuits Cerberus had provided would prove more than useful to endure fire-fights in toxic atmosphere.
"The plague's not supposed to have any effect on humans but I'd rather be safe than sorry."
"I hear you." Zaeed nodded, his voice taking on a distorted tone over the radio link.
They descended a set of stairs leading into the contaminated area. A district of Omega often considered as the slums of the station. If the word even had a meaning on this small world. Shepard had a hard time imagining what such a place would look like under normal circumstances if even by Omega's standards it wasn't somewhere one would rather get caught in.
The stairs gave way to a barricade of makeshift slabs and cases of stone or metal behind which a group of aliens were standing, weapons at hand. Most of them were turian. One of them stepped down from his perched spot and gave orders to his peers.
Satisfied when his subordinates obeyed him to stand watch, the turian male angled himself towards Shepard's group and waited for them to join him with the proud stance worthy of the militaristic upbringing every member of his species underwent.
"I'm captain Gavorn." He introduced himself with pride, his eyes never straying from Shepard.
Shepard nodded. "Commander Shepard."
"Yes I know who you are, Commander." he said. "Aria told me you were coming down here."
"I wasn't aware there was a police force on Omega." Zaeed crossed his arms over his chest.
Gavorn laughed, a strange noise coming from a turian. It sounded like it rippled over the walls despite his being quiet. "We're not the police, human. It just happens that Aria has her pretty little blue hands all over the business in this district. A plague's bad for business so she hired us to take care of it."
Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Take care of what, exactly? Why aren't you wearing helmets? Isn't this virus supposed to hit turians as well?"
"The true quarantine zone starts over there." He turned around to point over the barricade at the other end of the long hall they were in. "We're not going to cure the plague with weapons obviously but the area's crawling with Vorcha and they're shooting anything that moves. Us? We're just here to make sure they don't try to leave."
Anto cleared his throat, reminding Shepard of his presence and wearing a little more on her nerves with the sudden noise. "This is Blue Suns territory, they used to run protection rackets around here. How did the Vorcha take over the place?"
Gavorn shrugged. "The plague must've hit them hard. There aren't much of them left and the ones still alive are either puking blood or getting filled with holes by the Vorcha. That's all we know."
"We need to find Solus, he's the only one who can find a cure." The batarian insisted.
"Yes I know about him but as I said: It's a warzone back there. There are rumors Solus' clinic's still standing but I doubt it. He's most likely dead like most civilians around here."
Zaeed frowned. "The Vorcha are shooting innocents now?"
Another fit of laughter seized Gavorn, the mandibles on each side of his mouth rattled with the movement as the disconcerting echoes of his amusement filled their ears. "You haven't been on Omega long, haven't you? There are no innocents here. And the Vorcha are vermine; when they get in the mood for a fight they don't make a difference between a foe or a bystander. They're not smart enough to do that."
"It doesn't matter. We're only here for Mordin and no one else." Shepard stated and turned towards Gavorn. "I take it you won't venture inside the quarantine zone?"
"I don't have enough men to hold this position and lead a team to fight off the Vorcha." Gavorn shook his head in disappointment. "I would if I could – I'm always up to exterminate that kind of pest but I'm not stupid. If no one makes sure the exit's secure, the whole station could be contaminated in a matter of hours."
"So be it. Captain, we'll go inside and retrieve Mordin Solus. We'll see if we can find a cure at the clinic but I'm not making any promises."
"That's more than I could have asked of you, Commander." Gavorn bowed slightly in gratefulness. "You can infiltrate the quarantine zone safely, we'll make sure you have an exit point when you come back…. And Shepard?" He called after her when she started heading forward.
The commander looked over her shoulder, the strength of her determination reflected in her deep green colored eyes.
"Kill as many Vorcha as you can. They're rats, a nuisance to everybody. Even before the plague they were breeding too fast, so don't get shy on the trigger."
Shepard nodded. "I don't hesitate to kill anyone if they stand in my way."
By the tone Captain Gavorn had employed, Shepard thought she would have stumbled upon preying Vorcha the minute she stepped into forbidden territory. Instead, the trio of mercenaries encountered nothing but the remains of firefights, empty corridors and piles of corpses burning.
Zaeed couldn't help but stare at the morbid scene, his face twisting in disgust. "That's goddamn barbaric!" he declared in outrage.
Anto however, was much less revolted by the spectacle. "That's virus control at its most basic form. Nothing surprising."
"Maybe that's common on your world, but not on mine." The human glared at him.
His peer huffed out a guffaw. "Don't make assumptions about Khar'Shan, Zaeed. The Hegemony wouldn't even bother doing this. They would seal the infected area and bomb it until there's nothing left."
Zaeed was incredulous. "And you support this?"
"On the contrary, it revolts me as much as it does you."
"Heh? Really? You don't look very troubled."
Anto cracked out a smirk. "I have had lots of time to learn not to show any emotion I feel within my flesh."
"I see how that might come in handy working for Aria."
"It was my best trait of character according to her. That, and my inside information with some of the mercenary groups of Omega."
"A man of many networks, heh? You must've had an interesting career to get there. How did it all start?"
"I escaped Khar'Shan and got on Omega." Anto stated as if it explained everything.
Zaeed's brow furrowed. "Escaped? I thought most Batarians outside your planet were still in contact with the Hegemony. At least that's what I've been told."
Anto nodded. "You've been told the truth. My case is… different. I wasn't on good terms with the Hegemony to begin with."
"Really? Do tell. You can't leave me hanging now."
Anto sighed. "It's a very long story-"
In front of them Shepard stopped and let out a long breath. "Enough. Enough talking." she ordered. "I need both of you to be focused right now so cut the chatter." The true reason behind the interruption was more personal even though she wouldn't admit it out loud.
Shepard had no desire whatsoever to hear about Anto's stories. Working with a batarian was hard enough on her nerves as it was.
If anyone protested, their grumbles weren't heard over the radio link.
The commander kept her eyes focused ahead and led the way through the deserted neighborhood. The Omega station was seldom a welcoming sight by itself but this district was something else entirely. It was an ensemble of blocs that went on for fifty or so meters in a long street bordered on each sides by a set of vault doors at regular gaps. With its low ceiling and the dark reddish hue so characteristic to Omega coloring everything, it made for a monotone and eerie place.
Once in a while there was a staircase leading up to another level being a carbon copy of the last one. Each floor was as silent as space itself save for the crackling of fire. There were a couple of dead bodies lying here and there in some corner, having escaped the infernal treatment but they were the exception.
It wasn't that the streets were clean by any means. They were littered by trash, as if they hadn't been swept for weeks – which was most likely the case. However, the lack of evidence of an insurrection proved quite disconcerting to the trio of infiltrators.
Shepard froze in the middle of the street once they reached the fourth floor. She stood in an awkward stance, half-standing, half-crouching, her hand held out behind her to signal her companions not to make any moves as she stared off into the distance.
The auditory receivers in her helmet went to life, picking up a faint series of noises. It sounded like bumps into the walls and furniture moving, falling, breaking.
She looked back towards Zaeed and Anto, seeing them nod and acknowledge. She wasn't the only one hearing things. As they moved, the noises grew louder when they approached the non-descript door of an apartment.
Preparing themselves for an assault, they held their weapons high and were ready to pounce. Shepard tapped on the holo-haptic interface on the wall, prompting a hiss from the door as it slid open and they invaded the new area.
"Hey, hey, hey! Back off, we were here first!"
The voice belonged to a human standing in the middle of the living room and staring at them in what could only be perceived as annoyance or irritation. He wasn't alone. His peer, a human as well, wasn't even paying attention to them. He pulled off drawers after drawers from the tall closet of a bedroom onto its ground.
At his side, there was a third human, clad in a different way – bright overalls compared to the cheap, dark uniforms often worn by the members of the bipedal species of Omega who worked at the asteroid level.
That last person, though, looked frightened from his hunched up, sitting on the floor against the head of the bed, his head between his hands. Above him, there was the unmoving form of a batarian laying on the sheets.
"Did you hear what I said?" The first human came towards them with loud steps. "Get lost, that's our property now."
He only stopped when Shepard aimed her weapon right in his face. "Whoah, easy now!" he raised his hands in a show of good faith.
"What's going on here?" she demanded.
His friend had stopped his effort to take note of them. "What does it look like?"
Zaeed grunted by her side and walked up to the bedroom. "Looting, that's what it looks like's going on here."
"Ah come on let's not throw the big words around. We're just showing some enterpreunarial spirit, that's all." The first one assured them. He was still staring down the barrel of Shepard's gun when Anto joined Zaeed and started to examine the corpse on the bed.
"Looks like he's dead."
Shepard flicked her head to motion the man to move towards the bedroom. "Your doing?"
"Of course not, he was already dead when we got here." He shook his head. "We just decided to go through his stuff. It's not like he's going to need it now."
"And what do we have here?" Zaeed asked as he took notice of the prone human close to the dead batarian. "What's your name, boy?" The man merely whimpered in answer, preferring to bury his head further into the refuge of his arms. "Doesn't look like he's there of his own will." He said to Shepard.
"It's not what it looks like." The first human tried to defend himself.
"Do you think we're stupid?" Shepard growled. "You're looters. The worst kind of scum taking advantage of the plague to steal from the dead. That's pretty low on its own but now it looks like you're also hostage takers." She shook her head. "It isn't looking good for you."
The second one joined his friend and tried to reason with her. "Come on now, there's no need for things to get ugly. We were just breaking inside that place thinking we'd be on our own but that guy was already there tending to the dead guy." he explained. "He never said a thing, he just curled up so we ignored him."
"Yeah, I'm sure we can work something out."
"If I left you go, you'll just start looting again." Shepard countered.
They both tensed. "So what are you going to do? Shoot us?"
"If I have to. Do I have to?"
"Shepard..." came Zaeed's gruff warning behind her.
The most outgoing looter frowned, his face becoming a mask of aggressiveness. "You think we can't take you on, bitch?"
"Uh.. I don't think she's kidding, man." The other one panicked.
The staredown was short-lived despite their words. In the blink of an eye, Shepard fired two projectiles, each one hitting the looters in the face before they could reach for their own weapons. Their bodies touched the ground before anyone else could react.
"What the hell did you do?!" Zaeed roared, watching the unmoving forms of her victims with his hands raised to cover the sides of his head as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "They were goddamn kids!"
Shepard remained distant even when faced with his anger. "They were low-lives. Nobody's going to miss them."
"You didn't have to goad them into challenging you. I know what you did, Shepard. Don't you try to reason your way out of this!"
She huffed, leaning towards him. "I cleared our path! If I'd let them go they could have ambushed us on our way back. That's not a risk I'm willing to take."
"You don't know what they would have done!"
"I'm through talking with you, Zaeed. We're on a deadline. I have more important things to do than to get into a moral debate with you in the middle of a war zone!" Her voice raised with every word coming out of her mouth. "Now when we get back, you can yell my ear off as much as you like but until then, you've got a job to do."
"It won't be the last of it." Zaeed snarled.
Shepard ignored him and diverted her attention to the white-clad human by the bed. She passed by Anto, feeling his gaze on her and, as she did so, a part of her wondered what he thought of this moment behind the stoic facade he kept up at all times. A wave of resentment washed over her. The fleeting feeling of insecurity that had seized her was drowned out when she focused on the instinctual hate she had towards batarians.
"What's up with that one?" Her voice was louder and more aggressive than she intended when she looked down at the pitiful figure the last human presented. The man was the picture of fear and she only added to it with her behavior.
Shepard gritted her teeth and shook her head, hoping to chase away her mood and the general sense of being inadequate to the task. Talking to frightened civilians had never been her forte. They reminded her too much of her sixteen year-old self.
"You murdered them." The words were barely more than a whisper but they echoed aloud in her helmet.
"He's finally talking." Anto's deep voice noted beside her with a hint of amusement.
Zaeed crouched in front of him and extended a hand. "How you doing, sir?"
The stranger stared past them at the forms of the deceased looters, his head resting upon his knees. "You killed them both..."
Her moral companion gave her a pointed glance. She rolled her eyes. "What's done is done. No point in wasting time arguing about it."
"My name is Daniel and I'm a..." The man rose to unsteady feet with Zaeed's help. His shoulders remained hunched forward and his eyes were wide and darting around the room to make sure there were no more threat. "I'm a student in medicine. I was-"
"Take your time." Zaeed patted his back.
Daniel caught his breath and nodded. "I was told there was a batarian who needed help in this apartment and I decided to go out… alone." He winced and closed his eyes. "In retrospect, it was a stupid decision. I thought I could do it but I just froze when they arrived. I thought they were vorcha at first."
A shiver ran down his spine. "I've always been scared of them." he looked down. "After a moment, I realized they were human and they just ignored me but I was so terrified I couldn't move. I… I thought I was brave but I'm not cut out for this. It was stupid of me to even-"
A fit of wet coughs shook the entire bed against which Daniel was resting. The group jumped at the sight of the batarian corpse jerking and wheezing blood on the clear sheets despite the effort the alien made to cover his mouth.
"He's still alive!" Anto barked.
They all precipitated at his side except Shepard who remained by the end of the bed, entranced by the batarian who seemed to have eyes only for her. His face twisting in pain, he tried reaching for her and with a simple move, triggered a string of memories flashing before her eyes.
"Please..." he said, his tone weak and uneven. "Please..."
Shepard didn't know if he was begging for help or pleading for her to spare him. For a moment, the present and the past merged and she found herself standing in an N7 issued exosuit sporting patches of blood so large one would think they were paint.
In her hands, the collar of a batarian on whom the unmistakable blueish hues of Torfan reflected. The hole punched in his stomach by a round fired from a powerful assault rifle like the one she'd let fall on the ground beside her had taken all the fight out of him and he tried to beseech her to spare him through a garbled speech.
"Please…" The sickening sound of the alien starting to drown in his own blood wasn't enough to burst through the sheer rage pouring off her.
She tightened her grip in a sudden vice, feeling warm beads of liquid rolling down her cheeks even as a violent pounding in her skull altered her senses and the sound of her own heartbeats echoed in her ears.
The batarian writhed, an instinctual response to the compression of his throat. She watched, fascinated, as his quartet of eyes widened, their pitch black color seemed to display a rare ounce of emotion she never thought their kind had: pity.
Her fingers kept squeezing his throat long after life had left him but she wasn't ready to look away from his eyes even after they had dimmed. A long guttural scream came from somewhere around her and it wasn't until she'd let his corpse drop on the ground and seen the countless other bodies laying on the battlefield, batarians and humans alike that she realized the cry had come from her.
She was alone.
The morbid scenery vanished and Shepard's return to the present felt like getting slapped out of the blue. The corner of her eye caught a glimpse of Daniel pushing her out of the way and tending to the sick batarian with fervor while both Zaeed and Anto assisted him in whichever way they could.
However, the commander couldn't focus. Her gaze was locked on the batarian's face who seemed in the throes of agony. The world around her became more and more blurry and reeling in such a way it twisted her stomach and threatened to throw her down.
Shepard brought a hand up to her chest, only meeting hard armor there when a series of gasps reminded her of the labored breathing she inherited from her vision.
She backed out of the bedroom to find a more secluded spot in the apartment. In normal conditions she would hope her departure would go unnoticed but her body's erratic frenzy captured her entire mind.
When she sprawled against a tall solid table in the kitchen, gripping the edge for support as her knees started to give out, her breathing started to cut out in painful interrupts. It was like that first time in the Normandy's cabin all over again.
Except this time she knew what to expect and as such, Shepard spared no effort fighting against her panic. The back of her throat was on fire and there seemed to be a black hole at the level of her solar plexus menacing to shatter her ribcage and suck in the remains.
Every few seconds, her respiration cut over and over again in rapid fashion to mirror her erratic attempts to regain control. The dizziness took over her quickly and she saw her sight starting to black out like a movie playing on a faulty film roll.
Air, I need air! Nevermind the pure oxygen being fed to her by the suit, her mind called for what it perceived to be natural air in order to appease her and she started a frantic maneuver to remove the only barrier being her and her salvation: the cold, hard helmet over her head.
Her fingers shook and twitched when they followed the rim of the metallic jaw. She fumbled about unseeing for a long minute before her finger found a compression under her jaw and latched onto a small numb. She pulled on the mechanism with the strength of desperation and a familiar hiss was heard followed by a cool whirlwind.
The offending piece of metal was discarded and soon forgotten. It hit the furniture in a loud thud that she didn't hear, too focused on her much needed intake of breaths. Shepard sucked in the air as if she had just risen from the dead for the first time in a thousand years.
It was then, after five minutes of calming breathing exercises that she took the full scene into account. Here she was, half laying on a kitchen table for support, recovering from a panic attack and on the verge of passing out because of a dying batarian.
Despite her best attempts at convincing herself, she was forced to admit her mental health was in a fragile state. Traynor was right, she thought. For the first time in over a decade, she wanted to cry. To let it all out and accept her vulnerability but she couldn't.
She was a soldier. The best of her N7 promotion, a member of the fighting elite, the best of the best. Nobody in her position was allowed to let her personal feeling come before the mission and a mission she had. Perhaps the most important of her life.
She couldn't be weak.
I can do it. I can fight it. She repeated to herself like a mantra. I've just beaten a panic attack, haven't I? I can do it again. I'm fit, I'm able, I can fight. I will fight!
Her gaze fell on her helmet laying a few feet away from her on the floor. She grabbed it, slight tremors still running in her hands, the ghosts of her troubled spirit. It wasn't until she took a long deep breath of anticipation that she slid it over her head once again and reveled in the purer oxygen being fed to her.
Then she stood. Her legs were still wobbling a bit but she held on and soon found herself on her own two feet without having to use the furniture as support. It all became smoother from there.
A quick nod of self-encouragement, a few movements to warm-up her organism and release the adrenaline in her veins, a natural drug she needed to get over the feeble physical state she was in and she was ready to head out.
One foot after another, she left the kitchen without looking back. The woman who walked back in the bedroom was no longer the weakened ex-convict burdened by her memories. It was Commander Magna Shepard who arrived at the foot of the bed, her back straight and head high, the cold and steel-like determination she was renowned for flashing in her eyes.
There, was a strong-willed soldier for the world to see, respect and fear. No one could see the internal struggles within her, not even her allies. For, it would be the defeat of a leader of men if it ever came to spread around that she was weak. It would mean betrayal to everyone who relied on her and an invitation to inflict harm onto those she was responsible for by the ones who despised her.
It would be the breach of a promise made to the people from a planet basked in golden light she held dear in her heart; and, if it ever came to happen, it would be the undoing of her very self.
No. She couldn't let that happen.
"Hey! Who's there?" bellowed a voice.
A group of five people emerged from the darkness. Two of them, the most imposing of the party were carrying a batarian whose head lolled from side to side with each step they took. The alien groaned at every small bump on the way but didn't have any strength in him to emit more than faint primitive protests.
"It's me, Jian." Daniel's young voice called the man flanked by two LOKI mechs who had drawn their weapons on them when they heard a suspect noise from afar.
"Oh, it's you." Jian exclaimed and relaxed. "Mordin's going to stop worrying now that you're back. You scared the bunch of them by going out alone."
"I know." The young doctor looked down, embarrassed.
"Who's that?" He nodded at the people accompanying Daniel.
"They're friends, they helped me out of a situation." The younger man explained sending Shepard a grateful glance in the process.
The commander, however, didn't acknowledge the move and watched Jian's robotic guards. They were the same models she had encountered back on Freedom's Progress. The standard-issue humanoid drone standing a few centimeters shy of her height.
The trio of guards were standing before a large gate giving way into Mordin Solus' clinic from a narrow corridor with an open cavity on the left wall in which, she noticed, were another eight robots armed to the teeth.
"Quite a setup, you got there." she remarked.
The outlines of a smirk appeared on Jian's face. "The professor knew what he was getting into when he set himself up on Omega. Those drones are the only thing that protect us against the Blue Suns and the Vorcha."
Daniel wasted no time waving Zaeed and Anto to carry the sick batarian inside the clinic as Jian moved over for them and locked the door when they crossed the threshold. The first thing they saw was the white coats of the personnel moving over them to relieve Zaeed and Anto from their passenger.
"He's dehydrated and in hypovolemia. Give him an injection of the anti-toxin after the blood transfusion." Daniel instructed them before turning back towards the mercenaries.
He clasped his hands together and cleared his throat. "I… I've got to thank you. Without you-"
"Don't mention it." Zaeed pacified him.
"We're here to see Mordin Solus." Shepard disregarded his gratitude to fulfill the original intent for their trip into the quarantine zone.
Daniel nodded. "He should be somewhere at the back labs. I'll guide you."
He walked them through the large hall towards a corridor giving access to smaller rooms. Shepard and her companions had just taken off their helmets when the strong scent of ammonia assaulted their nostrils. It was obvious the small clinic had been turned into a field hospital for the needs of the infected who had come in mass.
There weren't enough chairs or beds for everyone and many patients were simply sitting on the ground while others paced around the clear paths, their tentative gaits giving away their weakened physical state.
Many heads turned their way as they passed by. Most glances were curious, others were hostile or even desperate but nobody gave any sign they would act on their feelings. It made sense for them to override their emotions in order to preserve the only sanctuary of the area. They didn't have any other place to go if this one turned bad.
"Cenozine is the catalyst. Bonds to genetic markers. Hard to find."
The voice came from the other end of the corridor. Daniel made a small noise of amusement and glanced back at them. "That's the professor you hear."
"Expensive to mass produce. Why not helacore?" The voice continued. Solus seemed to be thinking aloud and judging by the rushed tempo of his monologue, it was no surprise he was a renowned scientist.
"Too unstable!" Solus continued, his words guiding them towards him. "Inconsistent results. Demozane better option. No. Demozane toxic to humans. Not an option! Not an option!"
"Professor." Daniel called when they entered a lab room filled with electronic equipment.
In the middle of the room, an orange-skinned salarian in a white coat was hunched over a console, typing with furious pace on the holographic-haptic keyboard presented to him. He froze when the young human interrupted him and turned large eyes in their direction. The characteristic large dark pupils of salarians was surrounded by a ring of blood-red color fixated on Daniel.
Mordin Solus was an aging salarian according to the wrinkles around his mouth which meant he must have been nearing forty-years old. An advanced aged for the short-lived alien species.
"Daniel!" Solus raised his arms in the air and precipitated himself towards him, the ridges of his mouth turning up as he did so. It looked like he was about to hug the human but stopped himself at the last moment.
"Happy to see you. Was worried you wouldn't come back." Shepard knew salarians were known to be quick-minded and had the tendency to talk fast but Mordin Solus was beating every record. It was even hard to process his words before he got onto another sentence at times.
He just didn't let up.
"Told you not to leave. Low chances of survival. Stubborn of you." He chastised the human by pointing a finger at him like an authority figure.
"I know, professor. I'm sorry." Daniel looked down. "The only reason I'm still here is thanks to them."
Mordin took notice of Shepard's group for the first time since they crossed his threshold. He paced towards them, a discernible sense of curious interest shining in his eyes when he held up a hand, the interface of his omni-tool appearing to scan over them.
He touched a finger to his small chin. "Hmm. Don't recognize you from area. Too well-armed to be refugees. No Blue Suns uniform, quarantine still in effect-" He started to pace before them and enumerate every thought coming into his mind. "Mercenaries? Here for something else? The plague? Investigating possible use as a bio-weapon?"
He dismissed the option as soon as the words left his mouth. "No. Too many guns, not enough data equipment. Soldiers, not scientists. Another reason? Vorcha? Crew to clean them out?"
Shepard already had trouble following his train of thoughts but the headache that had settled after her panic attack made his unending trail of words get onto her nerves more and more until she couldn't take it.
"For fuck's sake, take a breath!" she exploded. "I came here to find you, okay? I'm Commander Shepard, I'm on a critical mission and I need your help." She let out a huff of frustration when she realized what she had done. "Also, I need turian blood."
Mordin was unphased by her outburst, he proceeded to stare straight at her with a perfect poker face until she stopped talking. At some point, one of his eyes rolled. A strange display to a human but salarians didn't express disdain in such a way, they often rolled one or both of their eyes to fight off pieces of dust or any kind of irritants.
It also could happen without the salarian's control to the most energetic of them in moments of surprise.
"Mission? No, no, no. Out of question." Mordin refused using his hand for emphasis. "Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Have to stay."
Shepard sighed. "Look Professor Solus, you're essential to our mission. Without you nothing can be done."
Mordin sucked in a quick breath with his nostrils and headed back to his console. "Can prepare dextro blood pockets for you to take if blood type of turian subject specified. Have to stay there myself until plague is cured. Still, intriguing offer. Who sent you?"
She heard Zaeed shuffle behind her before his gruff voice rose in the room. "Ever heard of an organization called Cerberus?"
Mordin's hands froze and for once, he turned back to them without the erratic impulses he had profusely exhibited until then. "Have heard of them. Nasty reputation. Heard they only worked with humans." His voice was calmer, deeply confused she thought, when he asked his next question. "Why request salarian aid?"
Shepard sent the information Dr. Chakwas had compiled on Garrus Vakarian to Daniel through her omni-tool to let the assistant take care of his case.
"Humans world are being attacked and we think it's the Collectors' doing. I need your help to shut them down."
"Collectors? Interesting." Mordin reflected, adopting a thinking pose. "Plague hitting these slums is engineered. Collectors one of few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar."
"But!" He raised a hand before darting into another part of the room. "Must stop plague first. Already have a cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it." He sucked in another breath and glanced back at her. "Need to kill them."
Her shoulders dropped. "One of these days, I wish things could be as straightforward as recruiting someone without having to take a detour."
Shepard held herself crouched low behind a guardrail, hearing the mass-accelerated projectiles bursting into the wall behind her position and send pieces of metal flying around them. On her right were both Zaeed and Anto observing a similar position when there was a pause in the gunfire.
All three of them rose from their position and returned fire, filling a couple of Blue Suns mercenaries with molten metal rounds. The two batarians slumped over their barrier and their blood began to spill over it when a dozen more rifles lit up in their direction.
"What a cluster fuck!" Zaeed shouted over the radio link as soon as he regained the protection of the guardrail.
"All this for a salarian." Anto shook his head.
"And to cure an entire district, you bloody thickhead!"
The batarian shrugged and peaked at the battle raging in front of them. Finding the cost clear, he lodged in a few rounds before hiding back to safety.
In front of their position and divided into two groups facing each other were the last forces of the Blue Suns carrying out an assault against a passageway controlled by the Vorcha. It was the only door left unsealed that led to the environmental control plant, a place which also seemed to be the Vorcha's lair.
Shepard and her comrades had come onto the scene of a gunfight from a secondary corridor and found themselves flanking both opponents who immediately turned on them while they continued their previous battle in parallel. As such, the large hall rearranged with various pieces of furniture was mapped as a bottleneck where the three factions were engaged in a three-way battle.
Judging by the Blue Suns' numbers, they would soon die out and Shepard's group would see the Vorcha turning on their new foe and outmatching them four to one. If anyone among the Suns still had any brains, they would have focused all their fire on the Vorcha and hoped Shepard took the hint to perform a temporary truce as the situation demanded it.
Alas it was not to be.
Playing on two front, the Blue Suns mere thirty men were stretched thin. This number decreased every minute as the ones still left alive had to walk on the bodies of their dead partners-in-crime to fight for their lives, letting out harrowing cries of despair only muffled by the loud sounds of mass-accelerated weapons.
"No matter how many of the bastards you shoot, these goddamn Vorcha just keep coming!" Zaeed barked in frustration as he saw the door slide open to bring out another ten of the aggressive aliens to replace their dead peers.
"We can't stay here." Shepard bellowed back. Her eyes darted from part to part of the room in hope of finding a way out of the place and a new way in the air-control plant.
"There is no other way!" Anto retorted.
Her eyes fell on the mouth of a venting duct on the side of the nearest wall. "There is one." She said. "You two, stay here and keep them busy. I'll punch a hole in their defenses."
Zaeed tried to grab her when she passed by him, without success. "Where are you going?"
She did not answer. Instead, he saw her crawl into the venting duct and disappear into the darkness. He just shook his head until a projectile whizzed close to him and grabbed his attention. He retorted in kind.
Thirty meters away from him, Shepard heaved out a breath when a ray of light appeared in her horizon. The vent was just big enough to accommodate her and she heard her weapon strapped to her back hitting the metal with every move she made. Whilst she was no claustrophobic per se, she didn't revel in the mix of dust and oil of the enclosed space she was in either.
It was a relief when she punched off the railings of the duct's end with success. The piece of metal flew off to clatter on the outside wall, the noise of the impact was muffled by the Vorcha's weapons. Shepard emerged right behind them as they guarded their door and fired on Zaeed and Anto as well as the last couple of Blue Suns.
Shepard unpinned her remaining grenades – three in total and threw them at the aliens, grabbing her rifle the next second. A few Vorcha noticed the oval bombs rolling beneath them and turned back towards her.
One of them screeched and kicked one of the grenades back at her.
"We kill you!" Right as he uttered those words, the grenades went off to produce a blast of pure white light, blinding Shepard.
When her vision started to come back, she was on her hands and feet, her assault rifle laying before her. The world was unsteady and a constant ringing in her ears told her even her helmet hadn't been enough to protect her ears.
At least, it looked like she had been successful. By the door were the blown bits and pieces of thirty of so Vorcha and there seemed to be no sign of movement whatsoever behind their barricades where the Blue Suns had been.
Once her state had improved, she rose to tentative feet and let out a sigh. She was about to retrieve her weapon when a large shadow engulfed her. Reacting on instinct, Shepard rolled around to strike the threat when a powerful blow tore a yell out of her and propelled her against the wall.
She fell into a heap, trying to regain her breathing when it seemed any intake of air she took produced a sharp pain in her side. Both of her hands tried to cover her wounded side in vain but they did feel the small dent in her armor.
One that shouldn't have been there. Only a mass-accelerated round could result in such a dent if they weren't stopped by a kinetic barrier. In her case, Shepard knew she had been punched and the person who could leave an impact in a material reputed to be indestructible must have had a monstrous amount of strength.
It was then that she heard the deep rumble that came out of her assailant. She groaned and looked up to cover the sight of a tall bulbous figure covered from head to toe in armor. There was no mistaking the hunched over figure of the alien that towered over her.
"Krogan..." she sucked in a breath and grimaced when it only added to her pain.
"You are brave, human but it won't save you." The grumbling voice of the Krogan held that distinctive tone that encompassed his species, that of eternal anger and danger. He stomped forward and wrapped one large hand around her throat before lifting her up until her feet couldn't touch the ground anymore.
Shepard cried out, the burning in her chest becoming unbearable it prickled tears of pain in her eyes. "I am a battlemaster." the Krogan announced. "It means I can crush your brittle body to dust with my thoughts."
No words left her, they were all replaced by her plaintive moans. He, however, wasn't expecting an answer out of her just yet. "I will kill you, stranger, but first I need to know who sent you here to undermine my operation." He said. "The Blue Suns? Eclipse? No, these ones are all dead. They were wasting their strength on killing Archangel while I went behind their back to seize control of their territories."
Gritting her teeth, Shepard managed to grunt out a few words. "Is this what the plague is about?"
The Krogan looked back at her, almost offended by her interruption. "It is a tool in my plan for success. The Collectors are strange animals but they are true to their word. This was their gift when I gave them a container full of live humans. Now, it is working in my service to eliminate the opposition and when its work is done, I will send my Vorcha in numbers to the salarian's clinic and force him to give me a cure. Then, the Blood Pack will be in control of Omega and I will discard Aria to become the new lord."
"Here!" A voice bellowed by the door.
Shepard could see Zaeed and Anto aiming their rifles at the Krogan from the corner of her eyes but he didn't seem to be bothered by the situation.
"It's Garm." she heard Anto's voice.
"Let her down!" Zaeed demanded.
Garm merely snarled and behind him, the short figures of Vorcha started forming a crowd on the other end of the corridor. The Krogan heard their hisses and raised a hand in their direction.
"Stay out of this." he ordered. "I will kill these intruders myself."
He let Shepard go and as soon as she hit the ground, Zaeed and Anto opened fire on him. Garm let out a bone-shaking roar and charged them, the stomps of his feet hitting the ground reverberated all over the place. He hit both men at the same time, throwing them out of the way and out of her sight.
She could hear the fight continuing as well as the Vorcha's nervous cackles behind her. They seemed to be closing in on her ever so -slightly. Her eyes fell on the shotgun that fell from Garm's back when he attacked her companions.
She did her best to ignore her pain and seize the weapon, hoping it would hold them at bay. She knew the Blood Pack troopers were loyal to their leader but there was only so much temptation a Vorcha could take once they smelled blood.
To her surprise, Garm came back a moment later. She didn't know what he had done to Zaeed and Anto but he looked like he wanted nothing more than to act on the promise he made to her. She moved around and aimed the shotgun at him, loading a double round at him.
Garm didn't even try to dodge the shot. However, he hadn't counted on the increased strength of the two-shot that hit his leg. To anyone else, it would have blown their knee off but Garm just slumped to the ground and snarled at her.
"You!" He shouted. "You are just gaining useless seconds!"
His words weren't empty. Moments later, to her astonishment, he stood back up and limped in her direction. Shepard squeezed the trigger as fast as she could and pushed herself back with her feet as far as she could when he took every shot penetrating his armor with nothing but a mere groan.
Come on! Come on! Come on! She thought frantically. A dangerous heat started traversing her armored gloves, telling her the shotgun would soon stop firing as she exerted it too much in too short a time but she didn't have a choice.
It was when the weapon didn't spit another round when she pushed on the trigger that she cursed, threw it at him and got to her feet with difficulty. She didn't go far. As soon as she started running, Garm charged at her, pinning her against the wall.
A loud yell erupted from her which he imitated, only his was one of wrath.
The deafening sound of a gunshot ended her plight as Garm slid onto his knees with a pained complaint before falling onto his back, unmoving. She followed him soon after. Her legs couldn't keep her up even with the support of the wall after the abuse she endured.
She was sprawled onto the ground when Zaeed arrived at her side, his rifle still focused on Garm as Anto gave him one final shot in the head.
"Shepard? Shepard! Do you hear me?"
She hissed. "Vorcha?"
"They fled." Anto replied.
"Here," Zaeed put her arm around his shoulder and lifted her up. "Lean on me."
Despite her body's protests, she managed to silence her pain. "Put the cure in the air..." Despite her heaving, she was in constant need of taking in new breaths. "then let's get back to… Mordin's."
"You hold on, kid." Zaeed said. "We'll get you patched up."
The faint smile that broke out on her face against her resolve marked a stark contrast with her physical state but she couldn't help it. There had been something in Zaeed's voice, something akin to real worry, that made her feel that for the first time in a long time, she wasn't alone anymore.